


Babu Kaiju

by Ninjaninaiii



Category: Godzilla - All Media Types, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen, M/M, babu otachi, well kind of otachi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1561946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninjaninaiii/pseuds/Ninjaninaiii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann finds out about Newt's secret written erotica, as well as a secret experiment nicknamed 'Hermann'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Babu Kaiju

**Author's Note:**

> Fic inspired by this work of art: http://kowabungadoodles.tumblr.com/image/82132285093  
> and my brother's fic request.

 

As was usual for Hermann, he woke up that morning three hours early, cranky, and with a dull pain in his knee. He reached for his watch and confirmed that yes, it was in fact 4 am. Grand.

Unfortunately, he’d been up late the night previously _finishing_ the last book he wanted to read. So, with a grand total of two hours of ‘rest’ and no chance of falling back into his dreams in sight, he got ready for the day at hand. At least if he went to the lab now, he could experience those few blissful moments of pure silence before the hurricane woke up.

He showered, dressed and brushed his teeth, but having snacked only a couple of hours ago, (it was an awful habit he’d picked up from a certain someone during the apocalypse days: “eat when you like because you still can!”) he decided to breakfast at a more suitable time. It irked him to skip a step of his routine, but then again going to the lab at half four wasn’t exactly routine itself.

He only passed one other person on his way to the laboratory; a bleary-eyed tech he vaguely recognised, still pyjama’d and stumbling at a quick pace towards the lavatories. Ahh, the pleasures of being disabled and owning one of the only rooms with an en suite. Hermann had recently found out that Newt had applied for a similar room, claiming seven various (and largely mythological) diseases, but alas, he was doomed to the co-ed showers of doom for the foreseeable future.

Hermann smiled to himself. The thought of Newton having to strip and, most probably, humiliate himself in front of the well-built pilots and trainees on a daily basis amused him. He wondered if Newt had a blasé, “I’m a rockstar” attitude about that as well.

He pushed the lab door open with renewed vigour, able to think of at least a dozen new things he could shout at the imbecilic biologist during their next trist.

And then he found himself on the floor.

Dazed, and in numb shock, he stared at the ceiling until it stopped spinning. Closing his eyes and letting out the breath that was constricting his chest (and had apparently stopped a yell from slipping out,) he counted to a minute. Through some miracle or another, he’d managed to land relatively not-skull-bashingly, and though his hip was never not-painful, it didn’t seem to have been damaged too greatly by the fall.

He probably looked ridiculous, lying in the pitch black lab, dead straight, breathing slowly and as calmly as possible. He felt ridiculous. But he also wanted to calm himself down because his mind had practically evaporated. Confusion, panic, pain, relief, he’d felt every emotion in the last couple of seconds and it really wasn’t doing any good. He wanted to assure himself that he was fine. _No brain injuries,_ he instructed himself. _Please, please, no brain injuries._

He repeated equations to himself. Memory seemed to be fine. He ran a series of numbers through a theoretical equation he’d been working out. Fine. He remembered the birth dates of those dearest to him. Fine. “My name is Hermann Gottlieb,” he told himself in a slightly strangled whisper. His heart calmed to a slightly, but not normative, slower speed.

Hermann blinked, inching himself up to a seated position. _Why am I on the floor._ Eyes having had ample time to adjust to the dark, he managed to locate his cane. Hefting it in his hands for a second, he used it to prod at the lightswitch, wincing as the room flickered into a blaring brightness; set to “artificial noon”, as ever. Adjusting to this brightness, he looked about himself. There was a spattering of paper on the floor, the origins of which evidently the half-as-high tower of documents Newt insisted he needed to be kept that way. Hermann recalled the sensation of slipping, and, matching footprint to paper, he clutched the offending document with a trembling hand, blood set to boiling.

_Newton I will end your meagre life if it’s the end of mine-_

The document was handwritten, so there was no mistaking whose ownership it belonged to. Yet, as Hermann read and reread the lined, messily scribbled-on page, outrage simmered to bewilderment. It was a list of sorts, a to-do jumble of apparently unchronological tasks the man was trying to remember to do.

_THINGS TO REMEMBER:_

_1\. finish that fic from 2k14_

_2\. find more nourishing food for hermann jr._

_3\. find that missing k. brain_ _ (no seriously this one should be no.1) _

_4\. buy more coffee_

_5\. replace chalk stocks_

_6._ _ no seriously tho that brain’s probs moldy by now hop to it newt of the future _

Nearly every point on the list confused Hermann. Point 4 was pretty self-explanatory. Point 5 was possibly charming and well-meant, (or there was a prank waiting for him, which would be less so.) Points three and six explained a lot about the growing smell that had seemed sourceless (“It’s not me, Hermz, I swear!” _my arse_ ,) but the first two?

The first two were perplexing.

“Finish that fic from two k fourteen?” Assuming that was a reference to the date 2014, as had been popular, for some bizarre reason, during the time, the “fic” in question was less straight forward to decode. He pondered on it for a second before ultimately storing it away for later decryption.

“Find more nourishing food for Hermann junior?”

There was a scuttling sound from the corner of the room. _Oh joyful,_ Hermann chided in his brain. _The rats are back. Just what we needed. We’ll be shut down for another fortnight at this rate._ He sat with his head cocked towards where he’d heard the noise, trying to determine how many had infected the laboratory this time. As far as he could tell there were only two, but they sounded rather large. Unless it was one even larger one, because there was a padding sound now too, which was rather more cat-like than a rat, which was disconcerting. It wouldn’t be unlike Newton to be keeping a secret cat in the lab. Hermann sighed, hoping it wasn’t. He was allergic to cat hair. His breath hitched when his sigh finished but a quiet hissing continued.

_KSSSSSSSssssss_

That sounded more ferret than cat. Or a ferret that has reptile somewhere down its ancestry. _Reptile. Snake? But snakes don’t scuttle. Lizard? ..._ The lizards Hermann could list weren’t heavy enough to ‘pad’...

Hermann was a Gottlieb Jr., but he was definitely the first of his forename _he’d_ ever met. So unless Newton was getting liberal with his use of generation identifiers and had come over with a startling sense of responsibilities for his meals, Newt either had more friends, or more pets than Hermann was comfortable with him having.

Stuffing the list into his pocket, Hermann arranged himself so he was sitting slightly more comfortably, rolling his shoulders as if it would inspire courage within him. He cleared his throat self-consciously, knowing full well how stupid he was about to look. “Ahem. Hm. Now, I expect you to behave appropriately, whatever you are,” he warned the creature. He still hadn’t seen it yet, so it could be a leaky gas pipe for all he knew. Not that that was any better. Hermann sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hermann,” he called, his tone verging on cooing. “Come here, boy. I assume you’re a male. I should hope you’re a male with your name. Not that I’m being sexist, I wouldn’t want any gender to have my name, let alone a female. Perhaps you’re agender. Is that possible in animals?” Hermann caught himself mid-ramble and sighed again. He was starting to sound like Newt, and as far as he could tell, he was talking to thin air. Again, like Newt.

He stretched his hands out in front of him in a manner he hoped was coaxing and soothed his voice a couple tones more inviting. “Come, Hermann.” There was the scuttle-hiss combination again, though this time from his 8 o’clock, his reactions too slow to catch a glimpse of anything but the creature’s blurry shadow.

“Fine. Fine! This is a ridiculous venture and I sorely regret partaking in it.” Hermann shook his head, grabbing his cane and managing to pull himself up off of the floor without the usual blood-rush that accompanied such a feat.

“I shall warn you now that I shan’t be feeding you, and that you are to keep strictly to your _owner’s_ side of the line.” He shook his stick in the vague direction of the creature, hoping it would understand his actions had it not understood his words.

“This is absurd,” he muttered to himself as he angrily cleaned his blackboard, prepping it for angry maths. “And completely against protocol. It is stated very clearly in the rules that pets are not to be kept. How that awful Hansen-” Hermann stopped himself far too late, an ache in his throat like a punch from the man himself. How could he forget, even for a moment. Drawing a deep breath, he gulped, hoping to clear the unpleasant feeling in his heart. When that didn’t work, he channeled his inner Newt and banged his head against the board. That didn’t help much either, so he abandoned the board in favour of booting up his computer.

He needed something other than fallen comrades to occupy his mind.

Taking the crumpled page out of his trouser pocket, he flattened it against his desk.

_1\. finish that fic from 2k14_

He opened google.

_Define: fic_

-fic _suffix_

  1. (forming adjectives) producing; making.

  2. "prolific"




This didn’t seem right, so he scanned the top few links. “First International Computer, Inc”, “Federazione Italiana Cuochi” and “Fogarty International Center - National Institutes of Health”. These didn’t suit either. Reaching the bottom of the first page, Hermann’s eye was caught by the “Searches related to define: fic” footer.

_Define: fanfic_

Fanfiction. This seemed much more likely for a groupie like Newton. Swallowing his scientist pride, he clicked on the wikipedia page and read.

This was worrying. But also intriguing.

As if the computer itself would judge him, he tentatively typed in his next search. Before hitting enter, he remembered where he was. Switched to an incognito tab. Typed out his search again. Hesitated over enter. He was assuming here that Newt wouldn’t have used his real name in authorship of his hypothetical fan fiction, so Hermann used the username he’d seen the doctor use for nearly everything he could.

_New search: SWAGojiraRockStar fan fiction_

_1 result_

“Forbidden Love (Godzilla x Mothra) by SWAGojiraRockStar.” Hermann knew very little about fanfiction. He knew very little about Godzilla. But he knew enough about both to be completely terrified by this link. But, as ever, he was in too deep. He needed to go deeper. He needed to know.

Looking over his shoulder like any guilty teen, he clicked.

Nearly an hour later and Hermann was enthralled.

“ _...Mothra kept inching closer and closer to Godzilla, tentatively, his wings fluttering decisively in the wind. He couldn't help but wonder how such an awe-inspiring beast could exist. Godzilla was truly amazing and he made Mothra’s heart beat like thunder. They were enemies- no- had been enemies for as long as he could remember but now- staring up at the lizard-like wonder, he wanted more. He wanted to be closer. He wanted to know everything about him. He wanted-”_

Hermann heard the door open. He hadn’t closed a tab quicker or more violently than that time, years ago, when he’d first found out that the internet was less straight that the outside world. His sister hadn’t believed in knocking. Thankfully this time he was quick enough to wipe the screen before a hand clapped him on the shoulder.

Hermann knew his eyes were too wide, his face too red. His hand was still clutching the mouse. His mouth was still agape. He turned, slowly, to face a Newt, who tilted his head in return. Then, not dissimilarly to his sister, his face cracked into a knowing grin.

“Oh Hermann, you naughty thing! Using the lab for private use?”

“I’m not- I wasn’t- I wasn't watching _porn_ , Newton!”

“Uhhuh, I believe you.” Newt winked, circling the table, grin still at full-brightness. “I hope you at least remembered to use the incognito tab, dude. Don’t want the Marshall pulling the internet again.”

Hermann was conflicted between blurting that yes, of course he remembered, and shouting that he just knew the internet had cut out for a reason. “You told me we had no internet because of the rat infestation!”

“Ah. Yeah. Miiight have lied about that.”

“You- you are a disgusting _child,_ Geiszler.”

“Hey! If _you_ weren’t using it for porn, then neither was I.”

“I wasn’t-” Hermann sighed, aggravated beyond belief. He supposed that at the rate the fanfic was going, it could very easily have verged into explicit territory very soon. Though whether he would’ve continued reading had that happened was another matter. And it definitely wasn’t “stimulating”, as was the purpose of pornography. Which raised a question he almost didn’t want answered. Did Newton find Godzilla x Mothra… _stimulating?_

His eyes must have glossed over as he was drawn from his thoughts moments later by a worried- “Hermann??!?” and a hand waving in front of his face. He shuddered, jumping back in his chair, meeting Newt’s eye and regretting it instantly. _What on God’s earth did those eyes see?_

“You okay, dude?”

“I’m fine. I slept very little last night.” Hermann frowned. He’d made it through seven chapters of the fic, though he couldn’t tell how long he’d spent on each one. “What time is it?” It was hard enough keeping track in the artificially lit building without long and overly-wordy stories to help you zone out.

“Uhh like quarter to six?”

“Oh.” Hermann looked down at his computer and verified that it was indeed 5:43. “What are you doing up at quarter to five?” Hermann asked, the man’s presence suddenly confusing him. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he was still lying on the floor and had concussion. Maybe he was in a coma.

“I… uhhhhh…” Newt pushed up his glasses as he looked down, breaking the too-long eye contact they had been holding. “Wait woah woah uhm hm. Is that- uh-” Hermann barely had time to register Newt’s panic before the man had grabbed the piece of paper he’d, frankly, forgotten about from his desk. Newt crumpled it into a ball, as if that could rewind time, hoping Hermann would forget about it.

“AH. Yes!” Hermann remembered his fall with sudden violence. “You. I have a bone to pick with you.” His eyes twitched and he raised from his seat, needing the height difference, as always, to feel superior.

“Look, dude, I’m sorry okay, I was going to search for the brain last night, but then I was distracted, and I had to go find something to eat, and it was a hectic day, y’know, so I went to bed and-”

“Geiszler, this is not about the misplaced brain, though I would be extremely thankful if, as your list describes, you prioritise its rediscovery.” Hermann picked up his cane, leaning on it to circle around the desk, and then using it as a pointer. “Do you see this mess?”

Newt nodded, recoiling into himself like a child in front of a teacher.

“Well I didn’t.” Hermann scathed, voice dripping with poison. “I, Geiszler, had a _fall_ this morning. I am already in a _compromised_ position health wise, and I would _appreciate_ , greatly, not adding concussion, brain damage, or a damned hip replacement to the already long list...”

“Oh- shit- shit- okay wait no I know you’ve got something else to say and this is a dramatic pause for effect but like the doctor in me is kinda going to take over so like shut up for three seconds just-” Newt pulled a miniature flash-light from an impossibly-full pocket, lunged at Hermann’s eyelids, pried them open and inspected his responsiveness. Apparently satisfying the rogue doctor-needs, he retreated a step back. “Okay, and go.”

Hermann just squinted down at him. Sudden shows of affection, however small and unaffectionate, had the ability to positively disarm him. “Make sure that you train your pet, whatever it is, to a higher standard so that incidents such as this do not happen again.”

Newt nodded, paused, then nodded slower, wider-eyed. “You, uh, know? About my pet?”

“Strangely enough, that you were secretly rearing a pet in a lab containing highly volatile substances and priceless theorems was a better option than most others I’ve had the pleasure of imagining.”

“...riight…. okay. Good. Well. That’s… that is a much better outcome than I had been expecting. Much better. I was expecting more of the shouty shouty less of the- understandy. Hm. Are you sure you’re okay? I think you need to go back to bed. Take a sick day.”

“I’m fine, Geiszler. I will be less fine if it is revealed that you have yet to housetrain said creature.”

“Now, see, that’s an interesting question. I’m still waiting on the results of his training but as far as I can tell, he doesn’t excrete. Assuming the moldy smell in the room is, in fact, the decomposing brain rather than craftily hidden faeces, which is extremely more likely given his daddy’s DNA and my forgetfulness, I have yet to find evidence. Which is great because, monetarily speaking, I’m sitting on top of a goldmine! Can you even imagine selling a pet that you don’t need to clean up after? And he’s so colourful too, children will love them. I love them.”

“Them?” Hermann gulped. He had a very nasty feeling. “...Newton, this pet of yours… what exactly… is it. Species wise.”

Newt was calmer now, excited at the prospect of showing his loved one off to someone. “Okay, you have to like promise not to freak out. He’s only seen one human before and he’s a little bit shy, okay?”

Hermann nodded, crossing his arms defensively.

Newt smiled, thankfully. “Okay. Just. No loud noises. No wild action. Calm.” He whistled, and the scuttling noise that had died down until then suddenly reappeared, as did the hissing. There was the briefest moment of silence until something came racing from the shadows in the corner of the room, winding up Newton’s body with unnatural speed and curling protectively on top of his head. It swished its three-pronged tail and shook its horned snout at Hermann, emitting a strange gurgling noise.

“You- that-”

“Okay so I’ve been working on cloning in my free time, okay, and-”

“You CLONED A BABY KAIJU??” Hermann raised his hands exasperatedly, watching the creature warily.

“1/48th size man, I’m not CRAZY. His name is Hermann.”

“KSssssSSss,” Hermann Jr. added helpfully.

“...you’re insane. The hivemind permanently damaged your brain.”

“I’m not insane, okay, I’ve been working on trying to slowly delete the babies’ ‘I want to kill and eat all humans roar’ trait, and I think I’ve finally succeeded. Hence, y’know, the naming. And the keeping for more than three minutes.”

“There’ve been more.”

“Ah. Yeah. I got bored, okay. It’s been a long year.”

“How many, exactly?”

“Uhh…. around 394. Some of them were twins. They were less fun.”

“‘Fun’?? How exactly is _growing_ a _crop_ of _Kaiju_ fun?!”

“Uh, well, y’know, the seeing if the genes i’d spliced had worked, working out how to splice the genes, not getting eaten... okay so maybe that was a poor choice of syntax but really they’re now less Kaiju… more… pygmy Kaiju. Pygju. Pygju sounds cute I’m going with Pygju.”

“...Pygju. Of course.” Hermann watched as Newt reached up to pet the thing on the head, wondering how on earth he still owned all of his fingers, let alone his life.

“...I uhm, it’s safe for you to pet him, by the way.”

“... I, unlike you, do not have a _death wish._ Hence I shall stay as far away from your _experiment_ as possible, thank you very much.”

The baby made a whining noise, and Newt mimiced it but with added _‘oh my god it’s so cute it’s making baby noises.’_ “Hermann you’re hurting his feelings! There there Hermann junior, papa didn’t mean it.”

“P-Papa?!” he repeated, sputtering slightly.

Hermann junior looked up from where he was licking his front leg, sniffing the air.

“Yes das right, isn’t is Hermy, das your Papa, isn’t it.” Newt pointed at human Hermann with glee. Bracing himself against Newt’s head like a cat bunching itself on its hind legs, Kaiju Hermann pounced- grappling to land safely on Hermann Sr.’s shoulder, claws digging into the tweed of his blazer. He wobbled slightly and adjusted himself, pausing to get appropriate balance, then, once sure footed, he curled his body around the back of Hermann’s neck, tail swishing like a grandfather clock’s pendulum, head nuzzling Hermann’s cheek.

Human Hermann had gone rock still, standing to attention as his eyes followed the creature’s movements. “Newton,” he whispered, as if any tone louder would aggravate it. “What is it doing?!”

“Bonding! I knew you’d find him eventually, so i’ve been making him sleep in your jackets at night. Now he associates your old man smell with bedtime. Cute, right?”

“You- you’ve been allowing a _kaiju_ to use my _jackets_ as beds?!”

Newt nodded, earnestly, smoothing Hermann jr’s lizard-like scales. “Yup. Conditioning. Another interesting point. You can condition Pygju’s to react kindly to certain smells. And,” Newt said, holding up a finger, pre-empting Hermann’s follow-up question, “the opposite is impossible. Like any animal they will agro on something that poses a real _threat_ to them, but their first instinct is flight, not fight. I decided it would’ve been cruel to get rid of the response altogether. That’s how the Dodo’s died.”

The Pygju was surprisingly warm, Hermann had to admit, and it was making the same guttural purring noise as a cat. Hermann had always wanted a cat. Dogs were always very athletic; one had to walk them, something Hermann couldn’t do on the best of days. Cats were comfier, more indoorsy. Independant yet loving.

“...And you’re sure he won’t…” Hermann made a chomping gesture with his hands, then separated them and made clawing ones.

Newt adopted a Gottleibian tendency and rolled his eyes. “You honestly think I would actually let a vicious, man-eating alien roam the lab willy-nilly, call him Hermann and teach him to respond to us as Papa and Daddy?”

“Yes. Wholeheartedly.”

“Wholeheartedly? More like coldheartedly, jeez. Trust me Hermz, he’s completely… like 93% safe.”

“Oh well in that case it’s entirely fine!” Hermann was becoming high-strung again, something he’d really rather avoid. Trying to soothe himself, he watched the baby breathe, its tail swishing contentedly with its heartbeat. It was admittedly hard to see the thing as anything but adorable at this current moment in time.

“Please, Hermann, just a little longer. Please.”

Hermann didn’t allow himself to look up from the miniature Otachi sitting on his shoulder. He knew what kind of face Newt was making right now and he would be more than tempted to shout obscenities and run away if he saw it.

“I… I suppose you may continue your experimental trial period for a while longer. However, if your genetical theory proves wrong and he becomes any less of a pygmy as you’d predicted, I expect you to _deal_ with him, Newton.”

The things Newt had been expecting from the big reveal had been shouting, tears, torn clothing, blood, angry letters and the removal of both Hermanns from his life. The things Newt had not been expecting from the big reveal had been acceptingness, the ability to calmly rationalise, mutual bonding and a trial period. He had been ready to accept literally anything better than the removal of both Hermanns from his life, so it was more than natural that he was nodding, shaking Hermann’s hands and crying “yes oh my god yes whatever you want, yes, thank you so much, thank you oh my god,” before Hermann could change his mind.

Hermann Junior barely blinked.

\--

“Your writing skills are terrible at best.”

Newt looked up, horrified. “Shit, is this about the book again? Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not going through _another_ draft okay, it’s just not happening. Nobody’s even going to read it anyway, they want to read about the fit pilots and the heart wrenching family loyalty, not about team geek’s theory progressions-”

Hermann hadn’t planned this very well, it seemed, and now Newt was on a tangent, it was hard not to be carried with the flow.

They argued about the book for an hour.

Newt opened his mail account twenty minutes later and was surprised to find a review waiting for him on the fic he’d meant to be hauling his sorry ass to updating. It’d been over 10 years, he honestly didn’t expect anyone to care, but it had always been a itch within him he needed to scratch.

_from: TeamGeekTheoryProgressions_

_to: SWAGojiraRockStar_

_Like I was trying to say. Terrible at best._

_Update ASAP. I should rather like to know whether Godzilla and Mothra finally get to adopting their child._

_All the best._

Newt stared at the screen, unblinking, for an uncounted amount of minutes. He read the review several hundred times. Then he looked up.

Hermann was watching him, with a raised eyebrow, stroking the sleeping Junior in his lap like Ernst Blofeld. Whether intentional or not, it was creepy as heck and Newt’s brain was already imploding in a strange self-defence mechanism.

“I couldn’t tell,” Hermann started warily, “Whether I was more afraid that you were conducting secretive cloning experiments on aliens that very nearly destroyed the planet, or that there was the possibility that you were aroused by fictional colossal monster versions of a moth and a lizard.”

“...and your verdict?” Newt squeaked. He coughed, obviously not considering that manly enough. He repeated the question again, lacing the words with as much brawn and power a man accused of jacking off to lizard porn could.

“I have decided that there is a third option I hadn’t considered appallingly frightening until I had completed your _‘fan fiction_ ’, and that is that 1, through some horrific coincidence you have managed to predict that my _affections_ for a horrific, monster-like calamity of a creature would change from rival to what I hope to develop, 2, that said calamity would practically force a smaller, cuter calamity onto me and call it “adoption” and 3, that you would make me realise this through a damned fanfiction about Mothra and Godzilla that is over a decade old and as of yet unfinished.”

“Wait, what.”

“Don’t give me that tripe, you heard me loud and clear, Doctor Geiszler.”

“No no no what I heard was an admittance of undying love and realisation through lizard porn.”

“Yes. You heard me loud and clear, Doctor Geiszler,” Hermann repeated, completely and utterly ashamed with himself.

 _And right you should be,_ Hermann Junior thought, rolling its eyes.

Humans were such crude creatures.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I asked my brother if he had any suggestions for a Newmann fic. He asked me how confident I was in writing Godzilla x Mothra erotica, which was just as bizarre as it sounded. 
> 
> I might have an idea for a chapter 2.


End file.
